Triangle
by Kironomi
Summary: 3 times Blaine was bullied  and the one time he did the bullying


**Title:** Triangle

**Word count: **6000

**Pairing:** Kurt/Blaine and one-sided Kurt/Karofsky

**Genres:** Romance, Drama, Comedy and Angst

**Warnings:** Depictions of bullying, homophobic slurs and courses of action; slightly dark!Blaine and strong language

**Summary:** 3 times Blaine was bullied (and the one time he did the bullying)

On his first day, he was tossed into a dumpster. It was partially his fault, he had to admit, that he suffered so much with the loss of his favourite jacket. It was navy blue and had black metal buttons. Kurt didn't like it so much because of the colour. He said it made Blaine's wardrobe look monochromatic (he supposed it had to do with his Dalton blazer). And Kurt _had _told him the day before to take a change of clothes. As it was to be expected, Blaine had scoffed and deemed the precaution unnecessary. "We are not in kindergarten, Kurt" he had said. "It's not like I'll spill orange juice all over myself." And Kurt _had_ retorted that a dumpster toss was something that tended to dirty one's clothes. And Blaine had said that he was exaggerating.

Of all things that could have come to bite him in the ass, this _had_ to be the one, had it not?

Not a minute after parking his car in the lot and waving at Kurt, who was waiting for him by the entrance, a couple of jocks( he had clearly seen their jackets) grabbed him by his shoulders, effortlessly dragged him into the dumpster full of empty milk cartons and discarded junk food wrappers and walked away laughing.

He idly heard Kurt's shout from across the parking lot and he sighed, looking up at the blue a great start! His clothes were ruined. His hair was sullied with the kind of dirt Blaine…well, Blaine really didn't want to think about that.

Kurt's head jumped into his view.

"Are you alright?"

Was he alright? Was he alright? A wave of indignation rose up in Blaine's chest. That had possibly been the most humiliating experience in his life so far. His clothes weren't really that important- he didn't care as much about them as Kurt did- but his pride! He could conclude that, from his very recent state of insanitary condition, the jocks were calling him a worthless pile of shit. Fairy trash. He could already imagine the creative name-calling. Just like in the school he went to before transferring to Dalton. His chest deflated. God, what had he gotten himself into?

"Blaine?"

Blaine's stare focused again on Kurt's worried face. Well, worried and part amused. Blaine could already tell his boyfriend knew he had not brought a change of clothes.

"I'm super." He said with as much sarcastic enthusiasm he could muster.

Kurt's expression mellowed and he stretched his arm over the dumpster, offering Blaine a hand.

"Come on, you silly."

"I'd rather stay here and die of embarrassment on my mushy coffin."

Kurt lightly laughed.

"There weren't _that_ many people out here."

"What about your friends?" he asked. He actually wanted to make a good impression before them, since he was Kurt's first boyfriend and that meant high standards. Well, regarding Kurt everything was high standards.

"We didn't see anything." Mercedes' distinct voice was heard not very far away from the dumpster. Blaine groaned. "Not me _or_ Tina. And especially not Puck."

Blaine rolled his head and flinched as he hit something metallic.

Kurt forcefully grabbed Blaine's hands. "I am so not going out with someone that smells like sardines."

"Sardines?" someone inquired. It was Tina. "Wasn't that last week?"

That somehow broke Blaine out of his stupor. "Last week?Ew!" he exclaimed, helping himself off Kurt's hand and jumping out of the dumpster. Kurt gave him a look.

"Seriously? You lied on trash for two minutes and only realized it was gross when someone mentioned last week's sardines? I am astonished at your reaction time, Mr. Blaine Anderson."

Blaine frowned. While he appreciated all of his boyfriends sides- yes, even the bitchy one- , sometimes he could really hold himself back on the comments.

Someone bumped his back. "No problem, bro. Sardines have a mean smell. It's understandable." Blaine eyed the Mohawk of the taller man. The last time he had seen Puck it had been at Rachel's infamous party. He had thought him to be the one to instantly make fun of him. But there he was, extending a hand like Blaine hadn't just been tossed into the trash. And Blaine shook it as strongly as he could, even with the smell of sardines indeed reaching his nostrils.

That first day, besides the dumpster toss, he had managed to go unnoticed by McKinley's bullies. Classes were definitely harder to attend to since whereas in Dalton a lesson would be completely silent aside from the teacher's monologues and the questions answered by the students, in McKinley there wasn't a single moment of quietness. In Spanish lessons, whenever turned, papers were swiftly thrown around on his back, mostly paper planes or offensive-albeit hilarious- representations of the Spanish teacher as a notorious man-whore. Math was all about Mrs. Wesson asking them the solutions to the problems and the students feigning momentary ignorance, which usually led to the teacher explaining five years of math material prior to the current subject. However, nothing was worse (or better, it depended on which end of the spectrum you were) than English. A jock- Blaine thought he was from the hockey team since he had not seen him at the football match he had attended to with Kurt- felt ill and asked the teacher to go to the nurse's office. She complied and he walked out of the door bent over his stomach. Five minutes later he waved at her from the outside of the window, crossing the parking lot with a grin and exiting school. The teacher didn't even bother sighing.

With all this, Blaine was supposed to be a little depressed. He had, after all, left an amazing school that could guarantee him a pass to any University he'd like to go to another that…He didn't really want to finish that thought. But all that was worth it because he got to spend more time with Kurt. Going everywhere he went, complaining about classes and teachers, solos and just _about_ anything that came up to their minds. He could really have gotten tired of it, being together all the time. They could have fought over something stupid and break up and never speak to each other again, overwhelmed with bitterness. But they didn't and somehow Blaine knew they never would. He had once been blind enough not to see how easily they fell in step with each other, how he only felt good when he was with Kurt, how comfortable and safe.

But now, that safe part seemed to shout "fake". How could they, as a gay couple, have been spared the bullying Kurt had once suffered? Had McKinley changed that much in the five months Kurt had been away? Blaine sincerely doubted it. And he brought it up one time when he was heading with Kurt to the bathroom for the fourth time that day.

"Don't be silly. Everyone's just psyched up about exams. You know bullying takes up a lot of time and energy and not every Neanderthal can take up multiple tasks at the same time. Breathing, copying and slushying? That is really hard stuff. "

Blaine rolled his eyes. Now he was being mocked.

"Come on, Kurt. I haven't suffered another attack since the first day. Don't you think it's a little strange?"

"You have only been here for seven days!" Kurt retorted, scoffing.

"Still-"

"Give them time. I'd never thought you'd be eager to ruin another jacket." He'd never live that one down.

"Oh, you didn't even like it. And that's not the point. _Kurt._" The taller teen stopped just outside the bathroom as Blaine tugged at his shirt. "How come we have lunch in the choir room?"

Kurt sighed and looked away from Blaine. "It's quieter when we're completely alone. Am I not supposed to enjoy our time alone? You're my boyfriend; I think I am entitled to have you all to myself for a few minutes."

"Kurt." He repeats, holding his boyfriend's hands and rubbing a thumb across them "We spend plenty of alone time in your bedroom. And in the in those five minutes before Glee rehearsal." At this Kurt smiled imperceptibly. "I know you're really just avoiding the cafeteria and the corridors during the breaks." he noticed the way Kurt's shoulders sagged "Do you think I don't hear what they call me-or us, for that matter- behind my back? That they have at least twelve different nicknames for me based off the word "faery"? Do you think I care? Because I really don't. No-one can stop me from walking down the hallway holding the hand of the boy I love."

Kurt looked up at him with a snap, eyes suddenly glassy and lips slightly parted in surprise. It took Blaine a few seconds to realize it because he was still a bit too wrapped up in his little speech. When he did, however, he felt heat creeping up his neck and flush his entire face, just like the first time he had been brave enough to kiss Kurt. He ducked his head in almost shame and didn't even try to stop a smile from tugging at his lips. It was true, oh so true, and the one courage he did not possess at the moment was the one to deny his feelings. He was already so deep in the awe and wonder that was Kurt Hummel, his coifed hair and stubbornness, his perfect skin and stunning smile. And his pink ones that were kissing him right then, in the middle of a school corridor in broad day light shouting that he too was in love. Epiphanies were a funny thing, he thought idly. They varied from person to person from what he could gather. Some led (too often) to singing about slitting throats and some, well some ended up being a gentle make-out session right by a bathroom's door that put all gentle make-out sessions to shame.

They did broke the kiss some moments later and Blaine was still a bit stunned and breathless when someone shouted "Faerie shortcake". He must have really thought they had meant the dessert for he turned around.

He was met with an icy tide of red ice. He didn't even gasp. He just sort of sucked in air and slushie with shock. After being transferred to McKinley, he had a bittersweet life. If he did well in classes, he was taunted about it on the corridors. If he had one of the most amazing kisses in his life, he was slushied. A pattern was forming. Nothing good could come to him without evil on its tail. He could be grateful for one thing, though: He had had his eyes closed.

He removed the slushie from his eyelids with the pads of his fingers-the ones that had been romantically wrapped around Kurt's warm hands just a few seconds ago- and stared with a mix of mutinous intent and shock at his attacker.

He wasn't part of the duo that had tossed him into the dumpster the previous week or even the one of the jocks he knew to be mocking him behind his back. No, he hadn't seen him in months, actually, though he had been his main concern when transferring to McKinley.

David Karofsky looked at him with a sneer.

"Ain't looking so preppy no more, lady boy." He said, tossing the empty container to his general direction. It hit his head and fell to the floor. Kurt was frozen behind Blaine, grasping the fabric of his sweater with one hand and with his other clamped around his mouth. He seemed to be in just as much shock as Blaine.

Karofsky looked at Kurt for the first time and his sneer faltered. It was so brief that Blaine thought he had imagined it. Then the jock staggered off down the corridor to his right and Blaine forgot all about it. He looked around. The corridor was well-populated, but no-one had noticed a thing.

Kurt swallowed audibly behind him. "Come on " he said, voice a bit hoarse and low, and dragged Blaine by his dirty hand inside their original destination while staring at the vanishing figure of Karofsky.

His boyfriend hopped onto the bathroom's counter, the pins on his pants making a slight scratching noise and he dragged himself towards the mirror. With a swift and well-practiced movement of his left leg, he dragged a wooden bench from underneath the sink and nodded towards it.

With a sigh, Blaine sat down and rested his messenger bag on the floor. The red fluid that had gotten to his hair had dripped down to his eyes so he could not exactly see the face Kurt was doing. He tried to remove the slushie once again but Kurt stopped him before he could.

"No. Moist towelettes."he said imperiously and turned to fumble around in his bag. Not before long, however, Blaine felt Kurt's soft hands picking at the icy parts of the slushie and removing them. Then he started rubbing his eyelidssoftlywith the remained in silence for a while, the only sounds being Blaine's occasional groan when ice did get in the way of his eyes and Kurt's stern muttering while handling the cleaning item.

When he finished, Blaine felt already very red (by now not slushie-red) and Kurt had made three different kinds of hair products appear from within the depths of his bag. He stared at his reflexion in the mirror. He looked positively hellish. The gel in his hair must have been defeated by the force of the slushie for his curls now roamed free in every possible direction with streaks of red (which looked, admittedly, very cool) tainting them. His face was indeed red from the rubbing (although it _had_ been gentle) and there were pieces of ice on his collar, which was something really uncomfortable since although it was already May, it was still kind of chilly. He craned his neck to look at Kurt.

" facial." Kurt commented, looking amused. The bastard.

"Yup." He replied intelligently.

"Is it cherry?"

Blaine picked up one of the icy bits from his collar and made a great deal of showing it to Kurt and putting it in his mouth. "No. Strawberry."

"Huh." Kurt said, more to himself "I have got to taste that one." Then he looked at Blaine and grinned. Blaine really tried to look back at him with an angry expression, he really did. But he ended up smiling as he shook his head and started laughing. Kurt hid his face behind the dirty toilette grasped in his hand and snickered as well. "Guess it wasn't so bad."

"I'll just have to carry a raincoat around. Plus, you know it's really hard to stay mad at something when you've just kissed me."

Kurt smirked and threw the toilette into the waste basket. "Oh?" he almost asked, sliding down the counter in what Blaine could only describe as a seductive way. Guess he really had been wrong all those weeks ago when he had thought Kurt couldn't be sexy if he now was able to sex up even a post-slushie facial cleaning session. Now thought Kurt could not be sexier. He craned his neck once again and gravity claimed its place as the most annoying thing in the world for slushie dripped from his hair to down his face only to pool at his lips. Great. Laughing material just when Kurt was about to…

But he never got to finish that thought for Kurt slid even further down the counter, jumping slightly and settling himself on Blaine's lap. He had this heavy-lidded look that Blaine rarely saw and the shorter boy could not help but lead his hands towards Kurt's waist, rubbing gently at his sides.

"Darling?" Kurt inquired, licking his lips.

"Why yes, my dear?"

"You have this thing in your mouth…"

"Really?" he said, voice playful as ever "Better take care of that, then."

Kurt nodded with a sly smile and ducked to lap at Blaine's bottom lick, licking the red substance and kissing him. Almost grinning against Kurt's soft and now flavoured lips, Blaine sucked on his boyfriend's upper lip and opened his mouth again, granting entrance to Kurt's tongue. And there they resumed their gentle make-out session, propped up in a small stool, Kurt's back resting against the counter and Blaine touching the entire available expanse of the younger boy's skin. If they got late to the next class, well, they always had the excuse that Blaine's hair was really difficult to clean.

Blaine was accompanying Kurt to his Physics class one day, trying his best to keep up his fast face by almost skipping by side like a puppy would to his owner or a particularly bossy cat whom he was enamoured of. Yes, he was aware of the similarities. One look at Kurt's eyes or lips or even listening to his voice, singing or not, and Blaine would start waggling his figurative tail, followed by his not so figurative suggestive eyebrows. And then Kurt would gently slap the back of his head or fake-punch his shoulder while blushing. And Blaine would be immensely happy and tease and flirt a bit more.

It was just in one of those moments of playfully wrapping and unwrapping his hands around Kurt's or his sides that Blaine felt a violent tug on his shoulder that proceeded to viciously drag him up the nearest locker. Blaine registered his boyfriend's sharp intake of air and a random girl's subdued shriek before focusing on the expected face of Karofsky. He no longer recognized him as "David" or even Neanderthal. After a month of classes at McKinley, he had stopped considered Karofsky's bullying as something purely resultant of his closeted homosexuality or remotely justiable. He pitied him before. Now, after numerous shoulder checks, slushies and nearly constant death stares, he could not bring himself to feel any kind of sympathy towards the bulky boy. He had even gone to the extent of trying to help him once on his own, two weeks after his transfer when the bullying seemed too much, but Karofsky had limited himself to look around to see if anyone had overheard the word 'closet' and pushed Blaine towards the wall, seething and muttering 'Back off, faggot'. He had not mentioned it to Kurt, he already suffered too much with all that happened to Blaine and Blaine thought he had already put Karofsky in his 'lost cases' list, together with Rachel Berry's animal sweaters. At first, they dealt with Karofsky's taunting like they had with the slushie: ignored it and tried to make the best out of it. But now…Now, it started to get to them.

Karofsky tightened his grip on his shoulder, pushing it a bit forward only to smash it again against the cold metal door with renewed strength."Freak" he spat as his hazel eyes sparked with anger and his red face warned him not to make a single sound.

Kurt was quick on his feet, Blaine had to admit, and he put himself between his boyfriend and the bully.

"Stop it."Kurt demanded, trying his best not to shout even though his voice was laced with anger as well. His hand firmly clasped itself around Karofsky's wrist, clearly trying to push him off Blaine. All of a sudden, the whole situation shifted.

Karofsky's stare zoomed onto Kurt's hand. He blinked, tightening his jaw, and looked at Kurt himself. He licked his lips quickly and that alone made Blaine more nervous than the shove. He suddenly felt the need to punch the bully. To do something, to kick the way out of that strange and unnerving situation, to protest and call him out, to divert that stare away from Kurt. He'd do anything to stop the fact that he was breaking Kurt, that he was tainting him with that filthy look alone. Then Kurt managed to have the strength to move Karofsky's hand, twisting his grip and shoving it with what he could tell was every streak of his strength. Karofsky's angry expression deflated completely to be replaced by a vacant look directly zeroed on Kurt's hand.

Feeling the weight on his shoulder removed, Blaine was more than willing to fight Karofsky, as hilarious as that may seem to any sceptic observer. But as he could judge from the way the bully looked right then, it would be the same as fighting a bag of flour. He'd never respond. And, just as he was finishing this thought, Karofsky dropped his hand. Kurt removed his own and the bully shot him a last, indecipherable look before going his way.

Blaine sighed deeply as he adjusted the strap of his messenger bag on his shoulder and softly cracked his bones. He winced. It hurt a lot now; it'd be Hell tomorrow. He turned to his boyfriend to comment just that when he noticed Kurt was shaking.

"Kurt?" he asked, grabbing his boyfriend as softly as he could by his forearms and stared at him. "Are you alright?" Kurt looked terrified; there was no other way to describe it. He was paler than Blaine ever remembered him to be and his eyes were two very wide orbs of blue streaked with the threat of tears. He shook his head and Blaine's worried frown deepened.

"Did you hit the lockers as well?" If he had, Blaine was sure he'd run after Karofsky right then. To think of him ever hurting Kurt again… To know he once had repulsed him enough.

Kurt shook his head again, now openly crying. Blaine wrapped his arms around him, inviting him to a hug. "Then what, baby?"

Kurt returned the hug and Blaine noted how his entire body was shaking. The taller boy sobbed, burying his head on Blaine's shoulder. "Why does he hate me so much?"

Blaine's hand flexed into a fist almost automatically. For the first time ever, white anger washed over him and he couldn't find an answer.

He went for it that very day. After Glee rehearsal had ended, he accompanied Kurt to his car. When his boyfriend looked confused to why he wasn't going home, Blaine had said he had forgotten to clear something from his locker and that he would head home later. Kurt was even more confused at that, but he begrudgingly believed it due to being so exhausted and let him go with a quick and sweet goodbye kiss. Blaine waved at him and re-entered McKinley. Since had let them out ten minutes earlier, there were still five minutes left for the last classes of the day to end. He walked down the hallway, passing his locker and heading towards the locker's rooms.

He'd never hated anyone before. He had always been this passive, yet quirky and energetic guy that had no reason to hold a grudge against someone. Never had he raised his voice, neither to his parents and teachers or even his underclassmen and Warblers back at Dalton. But then again, never before had he felt this strongly towards someone. He had never been in love, regardless of the fact Jeremiahs and Rachels had existed or not. And along with this strong, positive emotion came others not as quaint. This hate and loathe towards the figure that loomed over his relationship with Kurt, that threatened to destroy what they had. Yes, because he now had to lie to Kurt. Kurt, the one that he chose to have an honest relationship with. And here he was, doing things behind his back. He didn't want to make Kurt worry or stop him, is what he told himself. He knew, however, that if he was one hundred percent sure of what he was doing, he wouldn't have had hidden it from his boyfriend. But guilty as that might make him, it was for the best. He didn't want to see Kurt cry any more, he sure had enough of it almost every day now. It still made his heart ache, when Karofsky shouted something at Blaine and it crumpled Kurt's spirit more than it would have if it had been shouted at himself instead. He knew what he thought, that he had dragged Blaine to this school, to this constant bullying, that he, somehow, had tricked Blaine into a kind of relationship he didn't want.

Many times, when they were in Kurt's bed with Blaine softly patting his hair to try to make him react, to shout that he had spent half an hour or maybe even two working on that perfect coif and that he would be damned if Blaine would ruin it, Kurt just sort of stopped altogether. He wouldbstare emptily at the ceiling until his eyes filled with tears. Then he'd start muttering 'I am sorry' and Blaine would feel so outraged that he would think of saying that he shouldn't be sorry of loving him. But he never did, because he knew Kurt was already aware of that. He also didn't want to argue. Because not even Karofsky had made them fight with true anger or resentment. They had never shared spiteful words, but their relationship was already filled with sadness.

So he couldn't really be blamed if he hated Karofsky, right?

He reached the locker's rooms and waited in a secluded corner. He knew his last class was Gym and that he took extra time because when rehearsals ended up being extended due to the need of practicing a new routine, Kurt and Blaine would have to hurry to their cars in fear of possible taunting.

Some of his classmates- among which were Azimio and Strando, who surprisingly weren't as much of a pain in the neck as one would have had believed as long as they didn't have access to the slushie machine- started scattering out of the locker's rooms. Their talks filled the corridor along with the ring of the bell indicating the end of the school day. He waited until he was sure the last of Karofsky's classmates had exited to enter the locker's rooms.

That part was certainly smelly, although that was obviously a constant, especially since it was the boys' and most didn't even use deodorant. He suddenly found himself hoping that Karofsky had already finished showering and dressing. He couldn't look very serious or threatening with a very tall, sweaty and naked jock looking at him from above. Yeah, he sincerely hoped that was not the case.

As it turned out, Karofsky was actually already dressed and currently packing his bag. Blaine was suddenly at loss. The jock had not seen him yet and he didn't know what to do. He had been ready for him to spot him right away and start bellowing and throwing stuff until some members of the school faculty heard the ruckus and came in to help, or not. So he cleared his throat.

Karofsky's neck almost snapped with the speed it turned to see who was bothering him. When he did spot him, his eyes narrowed at the sight of the shorter boy. In almost no time he had crossed the distance between himself and Blaine and successfully pinned him against a locker.

"Coming to check my junk out as well, homo?" he asked. Blaine did not get the reference for a moment but then remembered what Kurt had told him about the circumstances of his first kiss with a boy. His nostrils flared at that thought and he readied himself to tell Karofsky he had no interest in checking his material out. But then he remembered, _keep calm._ It would be no use if both lost their temper.

"There's nobody here." He stated as matter-of-fact as he could.

"So you think you're free of checking me out?"

Blaine would have rolled his eyes, but it wasn't the time for that.

"I'm dating Kurt!" he exclaimed in the most neutral tone he could muster "What I meant to say was that there is no-one around. You can stop your homophobic behaviour since you have no-one to impress or illude."

Karofsky smirked. "You don't get it, do you?" he released his hold on Blaine's shirt slightly and took a step backwards "I don't push you around simply because you're gay."

Blaine lifted his chin. _What?_

"I do it because I hate you."

Blaine nearly scoffed. "Of course you hate me, you made that very clear. And since you hate me because I am gay and I remind you constantly of your sexuality by kissing or flirting with Kurt, it all ends up being the same. "

Karofsky shook his head with a sad laugh. "Man, you sure are full of yourself." He walked away to finish packing. Blaine felt indigenised. What the hell was he talking about? Full of himself?

"What do you mean?" he asked, losing all composure and calm.

"Fuck off, Anderson." Karofsky told him in what could only be described as a closed tone. Blaine halted. Karofsky had never called him by his last name. Homo, fag, faery were some of his favourite designations, but never Anderson. That only enticed his curiosity more. If Karofsky's mind wasn't even put on making up another nickname, then something was wrong. If he had something to tell him, he'd better tell it now.

"What the fuck are you talking about, I am full of myself?" He had cursed. He never curses, but if descending to Karofsky's level was needed, he was all for doing it.

"Back off." The bully muttered while bending over his bag pack, clearly stalling. Blaine grabbed Karofsky's arm in the heat of the moment and turned him around. The taller man pushed him again and Blaine staggered one or two metres before settling against the equipment's cupboard.

"Do you want to know? Do you want to fucking know why I am always throwing you around, why I hate your guts?" he spat, looking directly at Blaine, his face again very red "Why it is that whenever I see you near him I feel like punching you into oblivion?"

Blaine would have commented how that sentence was unlike Karofsky, how it was actually poetic, but the meaning of the sentences he was throwing around was slowly sinking in. He felt his expression changing more than the realization hitting him. That is why he was still a bit confused when Karofsky continued, saying "Don't you honestly understand why I can't stand seeing you two together?"

And then it clicked. It finally made fucking sense, if he could curse on his own considerations. Of course he could, because he had never been more surprised in his life, not even when Kurt had admitted his feelings for him. And he could not believe it. Because, if it were true, he could not even begin to understand the implications of that turn of …after all that time? He felt revolted. What Karofsky was doing was not normal.

"You…" he started, trying to remember how to make his voice work, which curiously had never been a problem before. A knot formed in his throat.

"For longer than I have been bullying him, longer than high school. Definitely longer than he knew me." His voice was surprisingly calm, almost rehearsed. Blaine wondered if he had even planned telling this to anyone. To _him_. His heart gave a funny twist on his chest. What if Karofsky had ever done that?

"He'll never love you back." He found himself say, out of spite. But the thing was, what if Karofsky _had_ told Kurt? Before he had forced himself on him? Before bullying him? What if Kurt had thought that the now bully was actually a caring, loving person at heart?

What if Kurt had never gone searching for his help? They'd have never had met, never had become friends. _They would have never had fallen in love._He forced that voice to silence. He was sure they would have met, they were meant to be. Kurt was the best thing to have ever happened to him.

"He'll never love you." Blaine repeated, his throat tighter than ever. His eyes tingled.

"I know." Karofsky admitted.

"He can't even be around you, less being involved with you." He knew he was torturing Karofsky. He also knew he was doing it to make himself feel better. What if he hadn't been the first out gay man Kurt had ever met? No, he had to forget the what ifs. What mattered was the now and there, possibilities and chance encounters be damned.

"I know." The bully repeated, voice going louder by each taunting.

"He hates you like he never hated anyone before. He longs for the day he knows for certain he won't see you anymore." The part of him that had been brought to life by Kurt was disgusted at what he was doing. He knew, deep down, that it was bad to take revenge like that. But then there was that darker part, the one he hated to bring forth, that he many times chose to hide. And it gloated on Karofsky's suffering. It almost trembled with the pleasure of having something the bully wished to have and shove it in his face.

"I fucking know, Anderson!" he bellowed, fisting Blaine's shirt and throwing him against the cupboard. It hurt, but not as badly as Karofsky was hurting. And that darker part of Blaine felt better.

The taller boy grabbed his things and stormed oit of the room. Blaine slid to the floor, his heart thrumming with perversed satisfaction, bile slowly rising in his throat and feeling the remaining fear of his previous thoughts. Kurt would never know. He'd make sure of it.

He spotted Kurt the next day only when he was almost entering his first class of the day. He was accompanied by Mercedes and Rachel and he had never looked so beautiful. Then again, he thought that every single time he saw him. His hair was pushed back in the way he had grown to love while at Dalton. He was wearing faded dark grey jeans with a red, short-sleeved tight t-shirt that stretched in the right places. Jogging down the corridor, he launched himself at his back and surrounded his waist with his arms.

"Hello, love of mine." He said, smirking against Kurt's shoulder.

The younger boy started. "Blaine!" The dark-haired boy kissed his neck and side-looked at the other end of the corridor. "May I know why you did not return my calls last night?"

"My battery died, sorry." He let out an exaggerated sigh "I would have loved to wish you goodnight, though. I felt so lonely without your voice."

Rachel cooed to his right. "You guys are so adorable!"

Kurt rolled his eyes and turned around in Blaine's embrace. "You, sir, are a boot-licker."

Blaine waggled his eyebrows. "Not exactly what I was planning to lick." Kurt slapped him in the arm and Mercedes crackled. "Boy, you got it baad!"

"I am kidding, alright?" he assured Kurt, eyeing once again the corner next to the bathroom "Can't I flirt in this wonderful day?"

Kurt smirked. "You sure are in a good mood!" he noted, putting his hands on Blaine's waist as well.

The shorter boy grinned and gave Kurt, without warning, a deep kiss. He felt him tense up in his arms and saw his eyes roaming left and right, but soon enough he melted into the kiss and even kissed as intensely back. When they did part, Kurt was pink and stuttering, saying that he needed to do something…go to class…and that Mercedes and Rachel had already left…

He all but skipped down the hallway and disappeared in a classroom with a wave. Blaine laughed tenderly and he picked up his bag from where he had dumped it. He crossed the corridor to his left, ignoring the tall, bulky figure hiding in the darkness and heading to his own class. History, he thought.

A.N: You may be a little outraged at how I made Blaine sound like in the last two bits of the fic. I assure you he only acts that way because of his protectiveness over Kurt and because he can no longer be without him. I hope David isn't out of character either. He isn't a bad person. His heart aches for Kurt more than it aches for anything in his life. Please try to understand the reasons behind his bullying in this fic. Well, thanks a lot for reading. I hope you liked it.

Kironomi


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